Mighty and Powerful Children
by Force-A-Pancakes
Summary: The meeting and exploits of a young Miguel and Tulio. Will fix summary soon. Collab with orvaign.


The 9-year-old's heart pounded in his ears as he skidded around another corner in the seemingly endless maze of foreign alleyways, a minute crowd of men shouting things after him in a language he didn't understand. A gasp of terror was ripped from his wildly undulating chest as he came face to face with a huge wall. He spun around, bright green eyes wide in desperation and searching for an escape, but the men had already closed the gap and were now looming menacingly over his smaller-than-average frame.

Nearby, a brunet boy had just been wandering through the streets when he heard the commotion coming from one of the alleys forking off from the market square. Having nothing better to do with his time, he climbed the low side wall of the alley and walked along the top of it until he reached the source of all the noise. What he saw there nearly made him lose his balance.

One of the men had grabbed the golden haired child and was holding him above the ground, ignoring his wild flailing.  
>"Hey Juan, how much d'you reckon we'd get for this one?" he cackled, jostling the boy struggling in his arms. The other boy stared down in horror at the scene unfolding before him, apple falling forgotten from his hand. Another man – Juan, the boy supposed – swaggered over and appraised the struggling blond.<p>

"He _is_ a beaut. He'll make a pretty little manservant for some rich lady, methinks."

"Or some rich man!" the man holding him quipped, and they all roared with laughter. It was a coarse, rough, loud sound – their captive didn't like it. It made his head hurt. In lieu of any better idea, he flung out a skinny leg and kicked Juan, who was bent over him, where it hurts. Juan's laughter was cut off as the green-eyed boy's foot connected with his groin and he doubled over in pain, knocking into the man holding onto the boy on his way down. Taking advantage of his captor's shock, the boy took a chance and kicked him too. He shot forwards like a spooked horse, but it was straight into the chest of another of the men.

The man – a tough-looking skinhead with virtually no teeth and a finger missing – grabbed the boy by the back of his shirt and effortlessly hefted him up to his eye height.

"Bad move, kid." he snarled. The child's limbs were frozen in terror and he let out a whimper as the stench of the huge man's breath hit his nostrils. His wide eyes drifted from the man's gnarled face to the shadow of the undetected boy above and he gave a soft gasp. The boy on the wall put one finger over his mouth in a 'shh' gesture and shook his head at the blond, hoping that he'd get the message and not let on that he'd see anyone. The blond boy quickly snapped his eyes back to the huge man holding him. He hissed something in his own language, hoping to confuse them, and swiftly sent forth all the saliva he could muster into his eye.

'Ooh, that was good.' The other boy thought gleefully, watching the man flail around as a result of the spit-attack. But he still hadn't let go of the boy, and so the brunet decided it was time to put his plan into action. He let out a deafeningly high-pitched scream and launched himself at the man holding the boy, landing on his back and cinching his arms around his neck in a headlock. The blond could barely believe the stranger's audacity – and kindness. With a vicious growl he kicked his legs wildly, making contact as much as possible. The man roared in anger as he tried to throw his attacker off whilst keeping his grip on the blond, but his brain couldn't take both of them at once and he finally dropped the struggling boy.

Making sure he still had his saviour in tow – he could hardly leave him after he had just rescued him – the smaller boy bolted, sliding under a man's legs and running, quite literally, for his life. As soon as he'd seen that the blond had been released, the other boy had let go of the man's neck and dropped to the ground, skidding a little before finding purchase and hurtling after the boy in the filthy red shirt. When they had been running for a good ten minutes, the blond finally flopped to the ground, exhausted, his small frame wracked with pants. The taller of the two collapsed next to him on his back, his skinny frame shaking with adrenaline-fueled giggles and gasps for air. As the blond realised the other boy was laughing, a coy smile crept across his lips and he began to chortle also, following suit and lying on his back next to him. They lay there, under a tree, laughing for a good five minutes.

Eventually, though, when their giggling subsided, the dark-haired boy sat up and offered his hand to the other boy.

"Me llamo Tulio." he said sincerely.

The blond took the other boy – Tulio – Tulio's hand but only bit his lip with a look of confusion in response to his words. He pointed hesitantly at the dark haired boy.  
>"T…Tulio?" he asked slowly, frightened and uneasy. Tulio nodded enthusiastically.<p>

"Si, si." he replied, shaking the boy's hand in a businesslike manner. He waited for the boy to return the favour of his name. Though was obvious what Tulio wanted, the smaller child hesitated. He hated his name – it was attached to memories he didn't care to recall and planned to forget. He wanted a new name to go with his new life, whatever that was to be. He chewed his lip some more and gave a nervous shrug. Tulio frowned in confusion at the other boy as he shrugged.

"Que… no?" he enquired, hoping he'd understand what he meant. Finally, a word that was the same in both languages.

"No…" he repeated, shaking his head, messy blond tresses flying in all directions. Tulio sighed and a thoughtful expression appeared on his face. He looked the boy up and down, taking in his filthy – but colourful – clothing, his golden-blond hair and his bright green eyes, and was reminded of his favourite street performer from the market square who played music all through the day.

"Miguel." he said decisively, pointing at the boy. "Si?"

A remarkably bright smile crossed the boy – Miguel's – face at the name. He liked it. He nodded with so much enthusiasm that it was surprising that his head remained attached to his neck.  
>"Si!" he repeated, beginning to feel excited about this whole circumstance – it was like an adventure. Tulio grinned back and gave Miguel the thumbs-up, happy that he'd done something good for the boy. Miguel stammered in excitement, but faltered. There was so much he wanted to say to his new friend, but he wouldn't understand any of it… still, his Spanish vocabulary was rapidly expanding: first no, now si… he figured it was going well. Tulio watched his new friend's expression as it changed from one of happiness to one of frustration as he tried to speak. He frowned and nodded at Miguel, urging him to go on even though he knew he would understand none of it. He hated seeing him upset.<p>

"I-I… is this…" Miguel pointed to the ground "is this Spain?" he asked in English, trying to make it sound as Hispanic as possible. Tulio almost giggled at Miguel's attempt at a Spanish accent, but managed to stop himself by starting at the piece of ground that Miguel had just pointed to. He looked up with a blank expression.

"Spaaaaaaain, Spaaaaiiin, Span… Spany… Spanyaaaaa…" Miguel couldn't hold in his giggles as his words became an incoherent mess. Tulio's eyes lit up as he realised what his friend was trying to say.

"Oh! Oh! Espana! Si!" he exclaimed, a triumphant grin taking over his face. Miguel echoed his smile, proud of both of them for this mutual understanding. Though he still somehow figured it'd be best for Tulio to do the talking. At least until he learned a bit more Spanish, which he was eager to.

"No… Espana?" Tulio said slowly, pointing at Miguel and trying to use the simplest words he possibly could. The small boy shook his head.  
>"English. Well, a-a quarter English, a quarter French and half Irish, b-but I came from England if that's w-what you-" he cut himself off when he realised he was babbling and Tulio couldn't understand anyway. He gave a firm nod. "No espana."<p>

Tulio nodded, his brow furrowed n concentration.

"En… gli-ish?" he said slowly, the unfamiliar word catching on his tongue. Miguel smiled and nodded with satisfaction.

"Si. English."

"Que, Miguel… English." Tulio said, slowly and deliberately. He had virtually no idea what an 'English' was, only that Miguel was one and it went into a similar category as being from Spain. Deciding it was time to move on, Miguel pointed to Tulio, then all around them, and shrugged with an inquisitive expression. Tulio looked around him. They were just outside of the city, on a little grassy area with a couple of trees. Unsure as to what exactly Miguel meant, he pointed over to the city.

"Seville." he pronounced. Miguel nodded, but persisted. He pointed at Tulio and at the ground, this time saying 'Seville' upon pointing to the ground. Tulio shook his head, not understanding what Miguel was trying to communicate. He pointed again at the city and repeated its name, frowning in concentration. The blond shook his head, deciding to take a slightly different approach. He waved his arms around.

"Where…" he pointed at Tulio "do you…" he paused momentarily and made a roof shape with his arms over his head.

"Aha!" Tulio exclaimed, snapping his fingers. He mimicked Miguel's roof action and nodded earnestly. "Casa, si?"

"Si, casa." He smiled, with another energetic nod. Tulio grinned, grabbed him by the hand and started leading him towards Seville. They sped through the city, Tulio leading the way and keeping to the less populated parts of town so as to avoid being seen. Miguel was trying to juggle keeping his legs from falling out from underneath him due to hunger, keeping up and taking in all the strange sights that he'd never seen before. His mouth hung slightly agape as they hurtled past the Torre del Oro, eyes wide at the massive structure. Tulio paid no mind to the towering building, preferring instead to eye up the basket of a woman walking a few yards in front of them. Apples. At least thirty. 'She can't need that many apples.' Tulio thought to himself as he led Miguel into the shadows, making shushing gestures and pointing to the ground. Miguel's eyes widened in terror and he grabbed the other's hand, clinging desperately.

"D-Don't leave! Please!" he whimpered, bottom lip trembling. Tulio frowned and shook his head – he may not have understood the words, but Miguel's tone and expression had spoken volumes. He squeezed the boy's hand reassuringly and gestured to the woman, tapping his cheek under his eye, indicating for Miguel to watch. Miguel breathed a sigh of relief on confirmation that his new friend wasn't planning on abandoning him. He frowned a little in confusion, not quite sure what Tulio was getting at, but nodded and complied, stepping back into the shadows. Tulio smiled reassuringly before turning round and starting to creep towards the woman, who had stopped to admire the Torre del Oro. He slowly advanced, keeping to the shadows and trying to look like he was uninterested in the basket of gleaming apples. The woman continued to stand unaware whilst Miguel watched from the hidden crevice. It wasn't obvious to a passerby, but since Miguel's eyes were carefully trained on Tulio, it was clear to him that he was bee-lining towards the unsuspecting female.

Tulio took a deep breath to steady himself and stepped out from the shadows, nonchalantly wandering over to the woman. He waited until she had started to search through her purse for something before his hands darted into the basket, clutching at two bright red apples. Miguel gasped softly, purely too shocked to make any kind of exclamation. He'd just taken that woman's apples! Stolen them! They were going to be in so much trouble! He hadn't even been in the country for a day and they were already doomed to a lifetime in jail, or worse! Maybe they'd be killed!

He tried to slow his frightened, erratic breathing. Tulio wasn't bad… surely he had some kind of good reason. Not noticing Miguel's panic, Tulio slipped the apples up his sleeves, crossing his arms to make the bulges less conspicuous. He started casually walking back to his friend, ignoring how fast his heart was pumping from the adrenaline. Miguel just stood, dumbfounded, pointing at Tulio and stuttering.

"Y-Y-You just.. you just-" he whispered, horrified. Tulio nodded and gestured for Miguel to follow him down one of the dingy alleyways leading off from the square.

"Vamos, vamos." he said urgently, casting nervous glances at the woman. Miguel complied, trotting after him hastily, eyeing him discreetly when he thought he wasn't looking. He couldn't believe this. They reached the end of the alley, which was crowded with junk and old empty boxes. Tulio kicked a few boards out of the way and crawled into a perfectly disguised shelter, fashioned out of bits of rubbish and wooden crates. He beckoned for Miguel to join him and pulled the apples out of his sleeves. Green eyes darted around the shack, Miguel's expression unreadable.

"Casa?" he questioned, making the same roof sign as earlier. Tulio nodded slowly.

"Casa." He confirmed, settling back against the far 'wall' and tossing an apple to Miguel, who scrambled to catch it and sat back opposite his friend. Tulio's reason for purloining the fruit was now very much apparent. He turned the apple in his small fingers and looked up at the other with an appreciative smile. Tulio nodded and smiled back, biting into his apple. As soon as he did, though, his smile disappeared and he shifted uncomfortably – he couldn't help but feel ashamed of his ramshackle home. Miguel noticed his friend's apparent discomfort and set out to remedy it. He'd once met a Spanish sailor, Pablo, a few years ago when wandering the port town that was his home whilst his mother was working and they'd ended up spending the day together. He spoke perfect English, but whenever a pretty girl walked by, he'd call out 'bonita'.  
>"Means beautiful." Pablo had grinned "The girls here love it, I'm telling ya."<br>Now seemed an appropriate time to finally use it. A huge grin began to make its way across the boy's face.

"Bonita." he stated, gesturing to the humble abode. Way better than any stupid Torre del Oro anyway. Tulio smiled shyly but appreciatively, relaxing a bit. He was glad Miguel liked his 'house' – every other friend he'd ever brought back had sneered at the makeshift shelter. None of them had lasted long.

"Gracias, Miguel."

Miguel nodded, warmth filling his chest, though the moment was ruined when he remembered how long it had been since he'd last eaten. He took a huge bite of his apple, almost choking in his eagerness. Tulio watched Miguel devour the apple with a thoughtful expression. He wondered at his new friend's story – Miguel was skinny, but not unhealthily so, and the skin on his face seemed relatively unblemished, if a little dirty – though he could make out the last remnants of some bruises, not to mention some faint, weird looking chafe-marks on his lower cheeks. Tulio couldn't see if there were any marks elsewhere on the boy – his arms and legs were concealed by his clothes, which although filthy, looked of decent quality. As his hunger diminished, Miguel began to notice Tulio eyeing him. He could guess what he was wondering and, for the first time, he was glad he couldn't talk. Tossing the apple core to one side, Tulio shuffled over to Miguel and sat next to him, smiling reassuringly. He gently took the fabric of one of Miguel's sleeves between his thumb and index finger and looked questioningly at the blond. Immediately, Miguel's hand flew to his sleeve, holding it firmly in place. He looked up, frightened as to how his new friend might react and gave an awkward grin. Tulio let go, frowning as he understood that something must have happened to Miguel. He thought for a moment, then his eyes lit up and he stood up as much as he could in the cramped shelter.

He turned around and lifted the back of his shirt, wincing a bit as the material dragged against the week-old lash scars on his back. Miguel was shocked. He suddenly liked Spain a lot less. He'd never been manhandled by a guard or watchman in England. Then again, he'd never committed a criminal offense. He pointed from the apple cores to the gashes, asking if it had been punishment for stealing. Tulio nodded and smiled grimly, letting go of his shirt and going back to sit beside Miguel. He'd gotten three lashes for getting caught with stolen bread and had been set upon by two massive men – one to hold him down and one to administer the punishment. It seemed like a high price to pay for a loaf of bread, but Tulio supposed it went with the territory. He didn't touch Miguel this time, indicating to his arm instead.

"Por favor?"

Miguel chewed on his lip for a moment. He didn't want to touch it, but he did want to show him. He felt a sense of trust towards him, something he had been cautious over since certain ordeals he'd suffered in the past. He was trusting by nature, but had had to force himself not to be.

Decision made, he pulled back his shirt sleeve as carefully as he could, revealing a small wrist bruised too many different shades and bent at a slightly off angle. He'd been trying his best to work on a partially dislocated wrist. Tulio sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth at the state of Miguel's arm. He looked up into the other boy's eyes, completely speechless – not that speaking would have done much good anyway.

Miguel returned the same grim smile that Tulio had given him earlier and sighed. He had no idea what was wrong with it, much less how to fix it. All he did know was that it _really_ hurt. Tulio bent over to inspect Miguel's wrist – it was bent to the side and looked swollen and painful. He gently supported it with one of his hands and looked at it from all angles, wincing in sympathy. It was bad, but it wasn't unfixable. Miguel flinched a little, but held back any major reactions – he didn't want Tulio to think he was hurting him. He gazed into the taller boy's eyes questioningly, hoping that he'd know what to do. Tulio smiled reassuringly at the nervous boy and indicated to his wrist. He pantomimed wincing and being in pain, hoping that the blond would understand. Miguel bit his lip harder. Either he was empathising, or he was trying to tell him that fixing it would be very painful. Either way, the brunet's actions succeeded in extracting a tiny giggle from the little blond.

Tulio grinned widely at the sound of Miguel's laughter, happy that he'd managed to reassure him, even a little bit. He took hold of Miguel's hurt wrist in both hands and looked up for permission.

"Por favor?" he asked again. Miguel gave him a determined nod and steeled himself, his teeth now like a clamp on his bruised lower lip. Tulio gritted his teeth and gripped Miguel's wrist as carefully as he could. He looked up into Miguel's eyes and gently started rotating his wrist, trying to pop it back into its socket. Miguel let out a yelp of pain as Tulio caught a nerve, squeezing his eyes shut, but nodding at him as a signal to keep going.

"Lo siento." Tulio murmured as he concentrated on manipulating the joint back into place. Eventually, with a sickening 'click' and a piercing howl of agony, Miguel's wrist was back as it should be – at least, the joint was. The bruises and cuts running up his arms were impossible to ignore. Miguel was wriggling his now-functional wrist, breaths coming in hitched sobs.

"G-Gracias…" he whimpered, rubbing furiously at his watery eyes. Tulio was tough, and he feared that he might not want to be friends with him if he thought he was a wimp. Tulio wordlessly pulled a cleanish rag out from his pocket and handed it to Miguel, miming wiping away the tears. He knew the boy probably considered crying in front of someone he'd just met a blow to his pride and so didn't make a big deal out of it, preferring instead to just smile reassuringly. Miguel gazed pitifully into his eyes before gratefully accepting the cloth and promptly bursting into tears. Tulio felt that now would have been an appropriate time for a friendly we're-all-blokes-here punch on the arm, but considering Miguel's injuries, it probably wasn't such a good idea. Instead, he squeezed his hand gently before turning away to fashion some kind of makeshift binding for it.

Wiping his running nose on his filthy sleeve, Miguel was unable to stem his tears so, embarrassing as it was, he figured it would just be best to let it out. Tulio turned back around with an old shirt to see Miguel sniffing and crying, curled around his wrist. The brunet tutted and went to sit down next to the sobbing boy, laying a hand tentatively on his shoulder. Miguel shook his head fervently, trying to deny his current state, but the pent-up emotions from the stressful journey and the time prior to it were ruling him.

Tulio watched Miguel giving into his emotions, feeling helpless. He left his hand on his shoulder, trying to offer whatever comfort he could but feeling awkward at the same time, although he didn't show it. Losing all self-restraint, the sobbing boy flopped forward into his friend's chest, crying harder than ever. Frowning hard and wondering what the hell had happened to his friend to make him so sad, Tulio wrapped his arms around Miguel and let him turn his blue shirt navy with tears.

After a good ten minutes of wailing, the golden-haired boy's sobs finally began to subside, though he still gave the occasional erratic hiccup, face still buried in Tulio's worn shirt.

"Lo siento, Miguel… no llores…" Tulio muttered, holding Miguel tightly and cursing whoever had inflicted this pain on him.

"Lo siento, Tulio…" he repeated, coughing a little.

"No." Tulio shook his head firmly and squeezed Miguel's shoulder. "No."

"No?" he asked slowly.

"No… que…" Tulio let out a frustrated breath and pointed at Miguel, then at his injured arm. "Lo siento, Tulio." he said, trying his best to mimic Miguel's accent, and shook his head, pointing to him again. "No."

Through the tear-induced thickness of his throat, Miguel managed to give a choked laugh at his friend's attempt to imitate his voice. Tulio grinned and straightened them up, patting Miguel on the shoulder. He ripped the old shirt in half and tossed one half across the shack, using the other half to bind Miguel's swollen wrist. His fingers were quick and skilled as he did this – he'd had plenty of experience. Miguel nodded his thanks, offering a more genuine smile.

"Gracias."

"Si, si." Tulio smiled, waving his hand dismissively. Miguel shook his head, smiling at Tulio's modesty.

"Si. You've helped me s-so much. Gracias." he said warmly, clutching the other's hands.

Despite not understanding most of what his friend said, Tulio nodded and smiled, giving Miguel's hands a squeeze. He decided he liked it much more when Miguel was smiling. Miguel maintained his smile and grip on his friend's hands, though he was beginning to shiver a little – it was getting late. He couldn't help but wonder if Tulio had any blankets or anything, though he felt it might be rude to ask and he didn't know how anyway. Tulio noticed that the skin on Miguel's hands had started to come up with goosebumps and he jumped up, indicating for the blond to wait while he darted out of the shelter and into the alley. He shimmied up the wall and grabbed one of the large blankets hanging out to dry on a washing line between two houses and brought it back into the box. Miguel mentally reprimanded himself for wondering if the blanket was stolen too. Tulio had completely saved his life and he was sitting there thinking shallow thoughts like that.

He took it, gratefully wrapping it around his small, shivering form. Tulio lay down on the ground next to the shivering boy, careful not to accidentally touch him in case he happened to make contact with an injury, content to let Miguel have all the blanket – it was the lest he deserved, after all he must have been through. Tulio had slept on worse than the hard wooden 'floor' of the crate, anyway.

Cold as he was, Miguel knew he would get no sleep with the other boy left exposed. He gingerly opened one side of the blanket, giving a gentle smile. Tulio smiled hesitantly, hoping that the other boy wasn't just being polite. He scooted a bit closer and touched the corner of the blanket that Miguel was holding up, giving him a questioning look.

"Si?" he asked.

"Si." Miguel confirmed, edging closer and enveloping them both in the blanket, face set in an innocent smile.

"Gracias." Tulio murmured, the events of the day finally catching up with him and making his eyelids begin to feel heavy.

"Buenas noches, Miguel." he said, a gentle smile crossing his lips at the sight of the already-sleeping boy curled into him.


End file.
